Nystri rolled over, half-asleep. The satin of the cushion she rested on felt soothing on her skin. She pulled the thick silk of her blanket up over her shoulder and snuggled into the pillow. 

Her eyes shot open. 

Did I let Amorastra suck on my hands last night? I let a demon suck on my hands last night.

She sat up in a rush and pain filled her consciousness. Her head pounded and she pressed her palm against her forehead as she squeezed her eyes shut and opened them a few times. Still bleary eyed, she looked around slowly. She was inside Amorastra’s tent. Rays of morning came through the open flap. She was sitting on a large cushion that had been placed in an open wooden chest. A large bed lay empty on the other side of the tent. The tent itself felt cozy with small tapestries hung on the walls, the floor covered in plush carpets, and a bit of incense burning near the bed. The tent smelled of sandalwood and rose with a hint of something more savory. She stood up and another moment of panic passed through her mind as she looked down. She sighed in relief as her clothes were just as she left them.

She tested her wings; the top left was still very fragile and likely to fall apart if she tried flying. She checked the makeshift dressing she had done yesterday and there were signs of healing. She felt her heartbeat through the thin membrane of the wing. Every pulse brought life.

She folded her wings against her back and jumped the couple of feet to the ground. She tried to imagine just what Amorastra had been thinking; tried to imagine what her game was and what she wanted. Yet, none of these thoughts got far with the splitting headache she had. She went outside and found Pebble cooking at the stove once more. He held a pan inside the stove with the other holding a spoon which he was using to mash something in the pan. Both of his hands were fully inside the stove, but he seemed unbothered by the heat she could feel from more than two yards away. Amorastra was in her chair reading a book with her feet propped up on a footstool. Amorastra licked her thumb, carefully avoiding its needle tipped nail, and used it to turn the page. Nystri felt a shiver go through her at the sight of Amorastra’s tongue. 

Pebble saw her first. He dropped the pan and spoon onto the coals and threw himself away from her onto the ground with a yelp. 

“My Queen!” Amorastra was beaming and she put down her book and rose from her chair. She hobbled over to Nystri and knelt down. “Are you alright? You were quite out of sorts last night, though you did seem to be enjoying yourself.” 

Nystri felt warmth from Amorastra’s smile equal to even the most pleasant of spring days. Nystri ensured her posture and poise did not belie her uncertainties, “Aside from a mild headache, I’m doing quite well. As for last night, yes. It was very nice. Thank you.” Nystri considered asking about the—No, better not to.

“Ah, a little hangover isn’t unexpected. That was a fine wine from the underglades. Very sweet, and even stronger. Dog! My tonic box.”

Pebble had slunk back to the stove and was cooking again. He placed the pan down more carefully this time, then bent low to the ground and crawled to Amorastra’s feet. Without looking up he felt inside the pouch a moment then produced a small wooden box, which he presented with both hands. Amorastra took it with one hand and opened it as Pebble retreated with a single woof. 

The insides of the box were lined with velvet pouches, each with a cork stoppered glass vial. Amorastra let her nail tink against each one as she searched. “Ah, here we are.” She plucked a thin vial from its pouch and closed the box. She pulled the stopper out and offered the vial to Nystri. “It’s a recipe I picked up a few years ago. Perfect for the morning after a good night. Just a mouthful should do.”

Nystri eyed the clear liquid inside the glass as she took it. It was thin enough that she could just barely grasp it with one hand, and long enough it reached her thighs. She carefully sniffed from an inch or so away. There was no odor she could detect. She looked into the caring eyes of Amorastra and back to the vial, then immediately sent a wave of magic through the glass—the same sort she might use to assess a mushroom or a meal she received from some rival noble. She detected no poisons or toxins of any sort. She pressed her lips into a thin line and grasped the vial further down with her other hand, then brought it up enough that the liquid reached the edge. She, as daintily as anyone might manage, slurped up a mouthful of that clear liquid and swallowed. It was smooth and tasted sweet. She took a few deep breaths. The pain and bleariness disappeared completely, replaced by a feeling of invigoration.

She tilted the vial away from her and looked at the liquid once more, “Amazing! It’s already gone.”

Amorastra smiled brightly, accepted the vial from Nystri and restoppered it. “I’m so glad. I’d hate to think you’re suffering because of something I gave you, my Queen.” 

Nystri nodded and said, “Yes, good. Well, we should break camp and get moving if we’re ever to get you out of the Yggswood.”

Amorastra watched Nystri carefully, making Nystri a little uncomfortable. Amorastra spoke with a slow, sad, sing-song voice, “Well, I do suppose you would be wanting to be getting back to your court as soon as possible. Is that not so, my Queen?” Amorastra’s expression was the very picture of sadness and dejection. 

Nystri maintained her posture. “I shall return when I return and no sooner,” Nystri said. “Do not concern yourself with my affairs.”

“Certainly, my Queen. I would not dare to interfere. At present, I seek only to help you reach your goals.” Amorastra stood and moved towards the tent. “Now that our lodgings are in proper order, we can dine much more comfortably. Would you care to join me for breakfast, Majesty? No wine, this time, I can promise you.” Amorastra looked over her shoulder back at Nystri, her tail whipping through the air like a cat’s.

The smell from the stove had filled Nystri’s nose for a while now. Nystri shrugged and let her arms flow outwards in an expansive dancer-like movement, “Since you’ve gone to the trouble of having Pebble cook, I shall be glad to join you.” Before going into the tent, Nystri went to a maple tree at the edge of the clearing. She patted its bark and smiled. She spoke, listened, then spoke again, nodded once, then pulled a few things from a crack in the bark: A bowl, plate, spoon, and two straight smooth sticks, all of which were (relatively speaking) quite large. She went back to the tent with an unhurried gait.

Amorastra had pulled a small square table into the center of the tent. It was short enough that if Nystri stood on her toes she could just barely see the top of it. Amorastra then brought out a wooden stool and placed a folded silk cloth on top of it. “I hope you find this acceptable, Majesty,” Amorastra said with a curtsy. 

“It will do,” Nystri said, then leapt onto the stool. She sat down her dinnerware and inspected the seat. It was just a little too tall for her legs to fit under the table. She cupped one hand to her mouth and whispered, then pushed those words through the silken cloth into the stool. The wood reformed itself making a small depression in the stool where she sat comfortably, along with arm rests and a back. 

Amorastra pushed the stool in just a bit closer and went to the other side of the table, then laid on her side on a set of pillows. She propped her head up with one hand while the other traced the golden filigree on her thigh.

“Majesty,” Amorastra cooed, “I’ve been quite curious to know more about your lands and your court. Being the queen of all fae must be quite the demanding position. Who all falls under your reign? Pixies, certainly. Fairies, elves…”

Nystri nodded along and continued the thought for Amorastra, “Gnomes, nymphs, sprites – I won’t bore you with the full list. And many do not concern themselves whatsoever with royalty or the court; not that they are any less important to me, of course. And, yes, it is demanding. My domains reach far beyond the Yggswood. And, while my peoples want for little, there is always some crisis at some border to deal with, or a dispute between nobles to untangle, or whatever else is put on the floor of my court.”

Amorastra drank in every word and watched Nystri raptly. “You make it sound truly dreadful, my Queen. Surely there are good things as well. Parties? Balls?”

Nystri reflexively scoffed and turned her nose up. “Parties!” She caught herself and softened her expression. “Those can be fine, but we have much better festivals.”

“Oh, how I would love to attend a festival with you, my Queen! When is the next one?”

Before Nystri could answer Pebble came into the tent with pan in hand. He was walking slowly. Each step he probed outward with his foot before moving forward. Nystri realized that his eyes were screwed shut.

“Pebble,” Nystri called out gently. He froze. “I command that you open your eyes, lest you spill that pan all over Amorastra’s carpets and receive the beating of a lifetime.”

Amorastra laughed and said, “Oh, that he would!” She sat up, tucking one leg under the other. Pebble placed the pan on the table and set the table for Amorastra. Amorastra served a portion for herself and Nystri. Potatoes, sausage, and quail eggs. 

Nystri adjusted the placement of her plate and bowl then said, “I’ve been equally curious about the demon courts. Your title of ‘princess’ isn’t one you gave yourself, is it?”

Amorastra laughed, “Oh, no, Majesty. My mother is none other than The Empress herself.”

Nystri nodded knowingly, “I thought as much. And what is her court like?”

Amorastra had just taken a bite and chewed thoughtfully. Finally she said, “The Imperial Palace is a  treacherous place, Majesty. Though outright hostility is frowned upon, everyone knows to be looking behind themselves frequently. They’re all vying for something.”

Nystri said, “Power, carnage, and chaos?”

“High-borne demons can be much more nuanced and interesting. And they seek status as much as real power. But, yes, power, carnage, and chaos.”

“But not you, princess? You’ve said that you ‘live only for yourself’ isn’t that right?”

Amorastra’s smile grew. She bit her lip and chuckled, “I’ve never found anyone else worth living for, Majesty. Until yesterday.”

Nystri nearly choked on the bit of egg in her mouth. She recovered and started to say something, but distant shouting came from outside the tent. Nystri froze. Her face, normally flushed, had drained of its color. 

Amorastra snapped her fingers twice, magically summoning Pebble inside the tent. She took his bag and opened it.

“Nystri, I don’t know what’s going on, but you can hide here. You’ll be safe. I promise you.”

Nystri looked to the bag, then to Amorastra. She managed a single shaky nod. Amorastra did not hesitate. She gently picked up Nystri and placed her in the bag and closed it. She threw it to Pebble and snapped her fingers once more, sending him away.